I
haven't written anything in a long while. I hope that you like
this one. I figured that Saionji owed Wakaba.

She wanted so badly to
sleep right now. He was there, gently sitting by her bed and she
didn't want to look at him. If she did she feared that the
midnight black with burnt, sooty edges would rush back into her
heart, choking everything else but rage. And she feared what she
might do to him, anything to make him stay, to make him hers.

Her memories of the
day were mostly cloudy and half formed, butterflies and leaves
delicately framed in the darkness and stinging, precision point pain
in her heart. Stairways and rooms, screams and swords. She had
remembered his scream quite clearly and wondered if her felt the same
black pain in his heart as she lied him down on her floor. When she
looked at him laying there, forest dark lashes almost reaching his
cheeks, breath soft and slight, she realized that she has to make him
hers more than ever. Saionji could be stolen from her, stolen by
that witch/bitch girl who wore the leaf gift with such calmness as
she passed Wakaba by, as if it belonged to her by nature. Wakaba
would kill her.

Wakaba had wanted
Saionji. An unattainable, impossible sliver of light secreted away
in her room. Her secret. His hair almost as dark green as black,
his skin as marble pale as moonlight, he brightened that little
corner where he waited for her. His mood heavier than midnight, his
presence breathed into Wakaba's heart a piece of his specialness.
For a while Saionji had needed her.

To show his
appreciation he had made her a gift. His little carved piece of wood
was richer for her than any promised star or flawless jewel and she
wept when his moonlight pale hand pressed it to her temple. He had
touched her. Saionji has appreciated her.

But then not many
hours later he had asked about the witch/bitch. That girl was
dangerous, she was already stealing Wakaba's girl prince and still
held her spell over her sliver of brightness. She would steal him
and Saionji would go to her. Go to her and forget all about Wakaba.

Wakaba hazily thought
that she had fought to keep him, she could have sworn that she had
almost killed the witch/bitch, so very close to ridding herself of
that blood red clad thief cowering behind the protection of the girl
prince….just an easy slash of his sword and……

But Wakaba had lost.
She remembered nothing else.

He was still waiting
for her, hiding when she was placed on her bed to "recuperate from
the fainting spell" and sitting patiently, watching her sleep. He
had never told her if he remembered his own scream.

When Wakaba had opened
her eyes she had noticed two things, that it was now night time and
Saionji had worn his old uniform. He was finally leaving and there
was nothing that she could do to stop it, to keep her little room
from going totally dark, his brightness taken away. She closed her
eyes and voiced her screams of pain inside. Did she honestly think
that he would stay forever? Wakaba wouldn't look at him, he was
going away, her mind was full of wooden leaves, a million of them
burning and sparkling as they turned into ashes in the blood red
dress flames…….

"Wakaba."

"Yes."

"I…..something
happened to your gift."

"I know."

"I don't have it
anymore."

"Please let me
sleep, Saionji." (I can't bear to look at you, you're going
and you'll take everything that you gave me with you, do you even
know what you gave me……)

"I can give you
something else if you like."

"What is it,
Saionji?" (I wanted for you so much to be mine.)

"Wakaba, please look
at me."

She turned to look,
her throat frozen and pained. Her mouth opened just barely when she
saw him.

Saionji's skin was
almost luminescent in the dark, a light all its own, his cheeks flush
a slight rose. The uniform was gone.

"You can have my
gift if you want it, Wakaba."

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